We Come Alone, We Leave Alone

The time we were created after the fertilization, we were one single cell. Trying to survive from the loneliness, the tiny little cell then multiplied into many, hoping it would have a company. Unfortunately, things never work the way we wish them to be, so instead of having friends, the myriad cells formed one single being called human, in our case. Once again, the single entity feels lonely.

The human cries right after the birth. They biologists say, it's physiologically because the baby is shocked to be exposed to the cold temperature outside the womb; anyhow, the cry is a good sign because it means the initially collapsed lung can work properly after the birth. But maybe, the cry is also a sign of the sorrow that a human will start: the cold lonely path in life.

If this story should be short, the end phrase would be we are going to die alone by ourselves. We enter the world alone, and leave it alone. But this is not the story of the dead babies right after birth, this is about what happens in between life & death, when the babies survive the cold, grow, walk on earth, and then must survive the storm in life.

The scariest part of this journey is to know that we are just helpless being that hope for utopia and all fairy-tale dreams could come true. Meanwhile, life is full of incertitude, infinite possibilities that our desire only contributes less than 1% on those potentialities. We therefore seek for someone who may share the same dreams, the same emotion, to share the lonely road we should take, so that we'll feel secure.

Stranger after stranger, friends and enemies, love and hate, we form a certain shape of relation with people we cross fate on roads with. We fill the empty room of our solitude with the feelings and thoughts about the presence of others, whether significant or not, but all we can find in the end is the fabricated perception we penetrate into our daydreaming. Those who come never truly stay, they leave and never come back, and we are left behind in void.

When the connection is cut, we are reminded to our very first cell, to the time when we are destined to be born onto this world. We then realize all the time we've been always alone, born alone, live alone, and then we'll die alone.

Some of us cannot stand the pressure of hollowness that wraps our soul, then they choose to forget how lonesome it is to walk this journey. Thus we seek for resistance. We try to find love and friendship that although they may leave, at least they're worth enough the memories to be kept and locked profoundly in the treasure box, and we can keep replaying the afterimage in our mind. We look for the place we think we'll belong, the place, time, and people we can call as home. We may move from one spot to another, fly from one nest to another, hold different hands from time to time, but we don't stop struggling until the last loneliness comes to pick us up.

We choose life despite the odds, and for a moment we can feel a little bit less alone. And sometimes, being alone in the midst of this uncertainty doesn't always mean to be lonely.

"Let me dwell in solitude, but let me not live alone in incertitude."